


Behavioral Therapy for Angels

by nanye_i_arato_angaina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, apparently i think along the same lines as the spn writers sometimes, i thought of it myself i promise, it didn't really work, mostly it's fluff that doesn't make a lot of sense, this was supposed to be my attempt at crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanye_i_arato_angaina/pseuds/nanye_i_arato_angaina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean shows up at Lisa's after Stull Cemetery and discovers that he's still capable of being surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behavioral Therapy for Angels

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for a while and thought that I should just get it out before I nit picked it forever.

"Dean Winchester, the archangel of justice has been teaching my middle schooler ancient Grecian drinking games for the last three weeks and it's all your fault."

Of all the things that Dean had expected Lisa to say when he turned up on her doorstep, he could honestly say that that had not been among them. He had, of course, just watched his baby brother explode Cas, snap Bobby's neck, and then jump in a pit with the devil like the stupid self-sacrificing martyr he thought he had to be, and then driven way more miles than was advisable on no sleep, so it was entirely possible he'd either a. misheard b. gone completely crazy or c. both. He wasn't sure which one was most likely.

"And I think he's been flirting with either your brother or his."

Both. Definitely both.

  
-

  
Ten minutes later, he wasn't any more sure of his sanity, but he was sitting down and he did have a beer in his hand, so things were marginally better than they had been. Lisa's living room had been full of milling, people-like shapes, but she'd shooed them out as she escorted Dean to the sofa. When she started explaining what she'd been doing for the last three weeks, he began to wonder why he was hallucinating Lisa hallucinating dead angels. And formerly dead angels who'd left to become boss of heaven. And then he began to wonder which Cas was the hallucination, and that led to wondering if he and Cas and Bobby were all still dead and if this was all a very different kind of heaven than the one he'd been to last time.

He had long enough to decide that it definitely wasn't hell, so at least no more Apocalypses were going to start so soon after stopping the last one, when Sam walked in with a very not-Sam like expression on his face and Dean had to reevaluate whether or not hell had gotten really good at fake people.

"Shut up, Luci," Sam hissed at no one Dean could see. A semi-familiar cackle sounded from the kitchen. The taller Winchester looked down at his older brother with a familiar everything's-going-to-be-okay face, the kind that told Dean that everything was not okay.

"Um, so, you remember when I told you that you had to go to Lisa's if things went... badly, and you didn't want to, so I made you promise and now you're here which means you kept your promise which is apparently step number nine in Chuck's "teach the angels how to act like a family again by having the Winchesters and various acquaintances lead by example" plan. Which apparently means that we only have another week until Lisa can kick us out without catastrophic consequences and then coat every wall she owns in anti-angel sigils because with all the shit that Gabriel and Luci- yes, you too- and sometimes even Michael have pulled since we've been here she probably never wants to see another angel again in her entire life."

Dean just stared at Sam. For long enough that he began to wonder why Cas stared at him all the time, as no new information magically made itself available the longer he looked at Sam. He glanced at Lisa.

"They've been here for three weeks, because apparently angels can time travel."

That explained absolutely nothing.

"Dammit, Luci, stop it!" Sam exclaimed to no one again, that not-Sam look back on his face, just before Adam appeared through the door and slapped him upside the head.

"Cut that out."

Dean was mostly sitting there watching and wondering when anything was going to make sense, but he noticed, vaguely, that Adam did seem to actually be Adam and not Michael.

"Gabriel I hate you and I will never forgive you for that stupid nickname," not-Sam bit out quickly before switching back to actually-Sam.

"Watch yourself, little brother," Adam said, only it was definitely Michael now, so did that mean that his own little brother was still sharing headspace with the devil, and seriously, what the hell was going on?

"Nothing hell-related, I promise you that," Cas' voice said from somewhere behind him. "Hello, Dean," he added, coming around the sofa into Dean's field of vision.

"Thought you were off being sheriff."

"When I returned to heaven after speaking with you, Joshua informed me that my presence was required at this address, three weeks prior. When I arrived, Lisa informed me that the archangels were on timeout and that I wasn't allowed to speak with them until after dinner but that Ben was excited to meet me. And that there was to be no contact with anyone outside the house until time caught up again. I felt much the same as you do now, and it is only continued exposure that has granted me any enlightenment as to what is going on."

"And what is going on?"

"Behavioral therapy for angels, more or less," Sam replied. "As deemed important by the humans whose residence they're borrowing. Michael gets along pretty well with Adam, now that he's been told to, but being put on timeout by your brother's ex because the devil in your head won't shut up for three seconds is highly embarrassing. Lisa forbid Raphael and Cas from being in the same room without supervision, but Gabriel, surprisingly, has been on his best behavior, more or less. And Anna's decided that she's doing the whole reclusive-artist thing. I haven't seen her come down from the attic in three days."

Dean began to consider this new information, only somewhere along the way, his brain decided that it had had enough, and off to dreamland he went.

-

The next morning, Sam was trying to decide if Dean or Lisa was going to come out of this most traumatized. He was pretty sure that his brother was still in shock, but Lisa was the one who'd had charge of a bunch of bickering angels for the last three weeks.

He'd tried to help play peacekeeper as best he could, but most of his effort went into attempting to censor the things that came out of his mouth if he didn't pay attention to the semi-unfallen angel in his head. And refusing to laugh at Gabriel's retellings of various world events, because they weren't funny. At all. And his tales of angelic antics didn't make him miss his own brother either. Because he'd get to see him soon. Assuming he kept his promise. Which he would.

And Dean was here now, _take that Luci, who has the best brother now? Obviously not you._

_Stooping to petty boasts now, are we Sam?_

_You're just mad because I got the quality brothers while you got stuck with the quantity of them_.

_Whatever._

If it was possible for someone in your head to slink off in a huff, that's what he did.

Ha.

Point to Sam.

He went to check on his younger brother (who was remarkably Winchester-like despite not being raised one, at least in things like family loyalty and being able to deal with the really bizarre) before going to check on his older one.

-

Dean spent the next morning thinking. While he did so, Cas was never far, and Sam's voice was almost always audible, even if it was actually the devil talking some of the time, and Adam was unfailing polite to Lisa, even when he got a sneaky angelic grin and went to bother the other archangels, and Ben beat Gabriel at Grand Theft Auto, and Anna emerged for lunch when Lisa called her down, and Raphael made lunch, and it was all really, really weird.

The weirdest part was that none of it was bad.

He hadn't entirely given up on his insanity theory, but he'd also considered djinn. Or tricksters. Gabriel was right there, after all, but he looked so happy ganging up with Cas against Michael and Adam, goading Sam and Lucifer into retaliation that only involved words or hair dye rather than swords, arguing with Anna about colored pencils versus pastels for landscapes, or making a mess in the kitchen with Raphael and then forcing the results on whoever was closest, that he'd ruled that one out.

And the djinn thing, too, as his perfect imaginary world wouldn't have featured a happy angel family so prominently.

So he was insane, or he wasn't, but either way, he was going to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth and enjoy it, because it didn't seem to be going away.

For now, anyway, which just meant that it was biding its time until it all went to hell in a hand basket.

-

The afternoon the day after Dean showed up passed quietly, the three Winchesters and Ben fighting virtual versions of each other while the archangels, sans Raphael who was playing chess with Lisa, watched and shouted advice over each other. Castiel and Anna had boxes of art supplies spread out over the unused part of the dinner table, hunting for the best greens and blues for the picture of hanging gardens on which Anna was working.

It was as absurd as it was ordinary, and Gabriel never wanted it to stop. If they had to play at being human to get along, then he would happily intrude on as many human families as necessary. Fortunately all it it took was the Winchesters and a couple of Braedens, because he was not above kidnapping.

The angels upstairs were getting free will lessons, since throwing them off the pier and letting them figure it out themselves hadn't gotten them very far. Uriel, Zachariah, and a handful of other angels had been assigned to prayers-and-surreptitious-miracles-at-hospitals duty, apparently, and that sounded like just desserts to him.

-

The week that followed was by far the weirdest week of Dean's life. A year ago, Cas had gotten himself exploded by Raphael to give him time to stop Sam from accidentally freeing Lucifer, and now they were all regularly sitting down to lunch made by the smite-y angel. One such lunch had been burned rather badly when Raphael had left it alone to fix up Ben and the neighbor kid after she'd mowed him down with her bicycle. Lucifer in Sam's body had been the one to make it back into something edible, in between bickering with Michael and whoever else was in earshot.

But that was the worst of it. Bickering. A few pre-smite glowing hands here and there, sure, but nothing more than when Dean was growing up with Sam, and Lisa was considerably more patient with unruly children (or the angelic equivalent) then their dad had been.

After a week of trying to not hold to tightly to the almost tangible happiness and failing, Chuck showed up and shooed Michael, Raphael, and Lucifer back to heaven, and informed Cas, Anna, and Gabe that they were allowed back out in the world, provided they didn't regress.

The humans were free to go back to their normal lives, which for some took a little finagling, but Adam had his mother back, as promised by the angels, and college tuition paid for; Lisa went back to teaching yoga, now at her very own studio; Donnie was returned to his life as if the angels had never shown up in it, though they did keep an eye on him, just in case; and the Winchesters went back to saving people and hunting things, but now they not only had angelic friends, there was no need for revenge, no destiny, no apocalypse to stop.

Things were pretty damn good.

-

The day after the longest month of her life, Lisa happily sent Ben to a friend's house and relished her empty house. Sure, it was still supernaturally expanded, and there were new watercolors on her walls that covered scorch marks, but now it was quiet in a way it hasn't been in ages.

It was blissful for three hours, until lunchtime found her eating peanut butter off a spoon because she just didn't have it in her to make a meal that had no chance of measuring up to the literally heavenly meals she'd eaten over the last month.

"What's up, Ms. B?" a voice she'd figured had left for good asked.

"I don't suppose you're up for making lunch?" she asked, turning to face the archangel.

"Lunch is more Raph's thing, but I'll give it a go," Gabriel replied, rubbing his hands together.

Lisa'd never thought that empty nest syndrome would get to her before Ben left for college, but it seemed like she wasn't the only one who'd fallen into some pretty hard to break patterns.

And if she'd ended up as the adoptive mother to a bunch of angels, well, sometimes you just had to roll with the punches.


End file.
